Dirtbags and Dozers

It's getting harder to remember
important lessons I learned last year
Dumb luck has been known to expire
just when the steaks are getting higher.
The stars all line up in order
just to build their boundless borders.
Your face is uglier than last year
liver spots on your neck and your ears
they might grow rapidly in water
slow boiled, like sick fermented soft serve.
I have seen at least a thousand times over
white daisies double-crossed by dirtbags and dozers
served to the servants on a silver platter
peacocks seared and stuffed with pearls fried and battered.
But we still play patiently
though the lights may never change from red to green.
While we await the tide rises and falls
taunting and teasing impertinent calls.
So long to all of my old habits
sucked thumbs are for the birds and rabbits
we'll eat when we're not even hungry
just bored and pitiful and lonely.
When all our compositions become useless
we'll fade away silent aimless and youthless.
And each year day hour and minute that passes
fades in the embers that burn into ashes.
And all of the castles that float in the distance
never get reached without ample resistance.
But none can know the sorrows of a savage
faced with a fate ordinary and average.
But we still play patiently
the lights may never change from red to green.